Turning of the Wheel revised
by Dawnblade2015
Summary: Pre-Golden army. A side story to Life Singer, How Nuada first met Pen and the origin of Tam Lin. Follow them through a turning of the wheel... Now being rewritten and expanded
1. Samhain

_**Samhain night, twelve years before the Golden Army...**_

When he heard the thunder of the Wyld Hunt on the cold autumn wind, Wink knew Nuada had chosen an ill time to harass the hunters who had been poaching in the patch of oak forest they had called home for the last moon. He tried to tell the Sidhe prince of this, but Nuada was having too much fun mocking them at every turn. All the Troll could do was shake his head and follow his oldest friend into the breach, perhaps keeping him from doing something stupid; like taunting one of the bastards who still clung to his loaded rifle.

The pitched battle was somewhat amusing for Wink to watch, even to the point that he'd forgotten two of the hunters they were taunting had guns. It was a single shot from one of those guns that set the wheels of fate in motion. Nuada had even laughed at the poacher who took aim and pulled the trigger, but even the fastest Sidhe can't outrun a speeding bullet.

The report was loud to Wink's ears, even as a look of horror and shock came to Nuada's golden-white features. The hunters took that moment to begin closing in on them, looks of malicious glee upon their faces. The troll braced himself for a fight; he'd never let them have his prince and he'd take a few of them with him if he fell.

Before the Hunters could close in more that an arm's length, a slim figure in a molted gray cloak dropped from the tree behind the hunters. One of hunters went down with a sharp cry, his throat slit. A second such form dropped between Wink and the hunter who had shot the prince.

"Go, now…" The figure hissed, charging forward.

Wink didn't hesitate, he gabbed the still stunned Sidhe prince and fled deeper into the mists.

At first Wink thought the shot had been deflected by the ancient armor Nuada wore. However, his collapse shortly after fleeing their former prey, told the Troll that Dragon hide and bone did not stop modern bullets. Now carrying his stricken prince, he was thankful to whoever had drawn the hunters' attention away from them.

_**In a clearing a mile from where the prince had been shot…**_

An ancient Sidhe warrior gathered with three others in shaded gray cloaks, listening to a young scout report upon the prince and his troll companion.

"…The prince and Lord Wink are away…" The scout said. "The prince was injured, one of the humans got in a lucky shot…"

The ancient Sidhe turned to the scout, indicating he wished to hear more.

"The Troll did not see you following." The Elder Sidhe asked.

"No, and it will take better ears than Lord Wink's to hear me."

"As it should be…" A sigh, "Make sure they find shelter and that Jaeren and the pearl find them. I wish her to set eyes upon the prince, before she is set to her task…"

"It will be easy enough, they are near on the same road. The pearl and her escort should catch up to them some time after dusk."

The elder nodded, setting two of his companions to carry out their tasks. The young scout also bowed and turned to another task. His remaining companion moved close not wanting to be over heard.

"…You worry overmuch, Silverhand…"

The ancient Sidhe turned frowning; few knew him by that name. His companion was one of the very few who could call him by it and not end up with their guts spilling at their feet.

"Nuadda Silverhand died under the blade of Balar of the evil eye, along with his bodyguard," he said. "It would do you well to remember that…"

The other Sidhe let out a sigh; the past was a sore subject for his friend.

"Lochain then…" his companion said. "Haladar and his enclave will welcome them as planed. There will be enough time for the High King's wish to be granted."

Lochain nodded, too many hopes rested upon the events of this night.

"For all our sakes, I hope this is true." Then his voice went softer. "Survive my namesake…survive until she reaches you."

Both men then turned to continue pursuit of the poachers; they would pay in kind for the royal blood they had spilled.

The well-concealed hut that came into view told Wink they were close to an enclave, but too far to reach before day's end. He crossed the threshold just as the last rays of sun were touching the Horizon.

_It is not a good night to travel, Wink thought as he carried his unconscious, bleeding burden inside. Not with one inching so close to the veil…_

The sound of the Gabriel Hounds faded behind the door as he laid his prince upon the cot nearest the hearth. The bleeding had to be stopped before they could continue on to the enclave and its healers.

He built a fire to warm the hut before striping Nuada's damaged armor off his limp form. The black silk beneath was sodden with blood and the flesh was dark with bruising where the projectile had torn through pale flesh. There was no matching wound; the bullet hadn't left his body. This was not good, for more than one life depended on the prince's survival; namely the princess Nuala.

With a trembling sigh, Wink pushed aside his fear for his friend's survival and went to search the shelves for medical supplies. If the hut were truly a Way Station, there would be some kind of useful supplies. If there were none, well it would not be the first time that any spare cloth went to bandage a wound.

The shelves turned out to have everything he needed, as if such an emergency was expected. He said a silent thanks to whoever had last stocked the shelves; their foresight was a godsend. There was everything from wadding to pack the wound to vials of simple painkillers and jars of antiseptic powders. He took what he needed and returned to his prince, fearful he would be too late.

As he bound the wound, Wink said a silent prayer to the Gods of Healing that the prince would live until dawn. He frowned when dark blood began to stain the tightly wrapped linen. His prince lived, but he feared not for much longer.

_**On the road…**_

Three riders kept speak despite the rapidly darkening sky. The cries of the Gabriel Ratchets were sharp in the air to any who had ears. The Wyld Hunt was abroad and riding hard in the chill sky behind its pack of phantom hounds. One of the riders stops and scans the terrain while the others pull up beside him.

"…There is shelter not far from here, Lord Jaeren…A warm fire will no doubt insure the Pearl's health…"

The middle rider nodded, "The damp air does her voice no good…"

_He worries for my voice when I have endured worse than a little damp in my lessons, thought the subject of their conversation, My "father" would only notice such things if it cost him coin. Gods, I wish…_

The escort's voice cut through any other thoughts she had along that trail.

"…Do you wish to camp here, little pearl?" Their escort asked. "The sky grows dark and it would be best not to attract attention…"

"No." She said, pulling herself from her thoughts. "I heard shelter mentioned and I do not wish to be caught in the Hunt's wake…"

The escort grinned, "As the lady singer Wishes…"

She knew Jaeren was not happy with her answer, he wanted out of his saddle before his ass chafed. She had no such qualms as to what she wanted, the sound of the hunt was getting louder and she did not wish to meet the huntsman.

_Another year, she thought when the look he gave her promised a portion of his wrath. I will be a journey-woman, and no need of a watcher, let alone my "Father" and his false concern._

They continued on, with the hound's bay urging them forward.

_**A short while later…**_

Wink froze at the sound of horses being reigned in outside the small hut, had the huntsman finally come for his prince? He braced himself as the door flew open to admit three cloaked figures. One was dark cloaked, the other two in shaded gray. No riders of the hunt were these, only travelers. One of the gray-cloaked ones was smaller; Wink's sharp nose said it was a young female. He also smelled sweat and anger from the other one.

"…Be thankful we found shelter, or I would…" Jaeren hissed as he slammed the door behind him.

It took them a few moments to notice the hut's other occupants.

"What in the nine hells is a Troll doing out of the tunnels…"

The dark cloaked one moved to shield the female, as a blade was drawn. The female gasped when Wink moved aside to reveal Nuada.

"Peace…" Wink said in road tongue and signs. "We sought only shelter, my lord is injured…"

The dark cloaked one sheathed his sword as the larger gray cloaked one pulled back his hood. Silver-blond hair spilled over sharp pointed ears, and a whiff of goblin struck Wink's nose despite the male's Sidhe appearance.

"I see…" He turned to the female. "Go and see to the Sidhe lord, and tell me the extent of his wounds…"

The female nodded and pulled back her hood. Dark waves spilled forth, Wink caught the scent of wild Flowers as she passed. A shadow of a memory brushed across his mind, the scent was familiar but elusive. She paused a moment as if she too had the same reaction to him before going on to see to the prince.

The Girl knelt beside the cot and used gentle fingers to lift the bandages to inspect the wound. The prince made a breathless sound but did not wake as she probed the damaged flesh.

"The wound is deep…from a gun…damage inside, bleeding…" Green eyes turned to them. "…Weak…dying."

"Go get my kit from the saddle bags, I will probe for the bullet…"

The girl nodded and rose, hurrying out to where the horses were tied out of the weather.

"More light…bandages…"

Wink near knocked the male over for his tone, but retrieved more bandages from the shelves as the girl returned.

More light globes were lit, brightening the space. The elder motioned the girl to stand beside the cot.

"…Come and observe, Little Pearl." He said. "You may have to do this one day."

The girl came close to observe, Wink thought he saw a look of annoyance on her face as if she had already done such a task before.

The elder made a hissing noise as the sodden bandages were cut away. Strong hands set themselves on either side of the wound, as the elder took a soft breath. What happened next would haunt Wink for the rest of his life,

A note, clear and sustained issued from the elder's lips. A counter note from the girl joined it. Nuada seemed to wake and a scream tore from his throat as a flattened cylindrical object tore out of the wound. The notes died and the elder removed his hands, the small object in his fingers.

"He will live, but you must bring him to the nearest enclave. The wound will not heal on the road." The elder said. "You may travel with us if you wish…"

Wink shook his head, but indicated he would follow close behind them. He would not have minded travel with the escort or the girl, but the elder singer was a pompous ass. The elder nodded and went out to retrieve the bedrolls.

"Stay with him, Little Pearl, he may wake…"

The girl nodded, turning to study Nuada.

As the others moved about in preparation for the evening meal, the girl began to study the prince fully. Wink watched her focus upon the Royal mark; her fingers hovered over the flesh as if wishing to touch. He had seen many women fascinated by it the girl was no exception. He turned to help the others, thinking it better to leave the girl to her explorations.

She pulled her fingers away as the troll turned to some task; she wished the Sidhe would open his eyes so she could see their color. She had long dreamed of a face much like his, save that golden-amber eyes were always narrowed in anger as he loomed over her.

"…Go take your dinner Little Pearl…"

She rose, turning toward her pack and utensils. She barely tasted her stew; her thoughts were focused upon her charge.

A short time after the meal, Wink made his way out of the hut sighing in the chill air of the fall night. The smell of the elder singer's annoyance was starting to irritate him. He turned to notice the escort tending a horse, the saddlebags held the royal seal. The seal was an indication that those bearing it were in service to Balor.

"…His Majesty sends his regards to his son." The man said, absently. "What regards does the prince return?"

Wing gave his report, concerned for the prince. Thankful, he'd run across one of the king's messengers so readily.

"You've done well Lord Wink, the fact that the prince still lives is testament enough." The man said. "…His majesty strongly advises you to encourage the prince to join in the choosing come Beltain. A bride had been chosen…"

Wink nodded, it was well past time for the prince to have a proper bond mate. He turned his head toward the hut; the girl was cleaning her bowl and utensils at the pump.

"…Life Singers, the girl will be spending one turning at Haladar's enclave…The Goblin-Sidhe is to see her settled."

Wink frowned. What were Singers doing traveling to an enclave? Never mind they rarely left their guildhalls without being paid their weight in gold.

"The Girl's blood father lives on enclave lands, he wished to see her before the guild grants her journey-woman status." The man said. "The Market guild raised her, The Goblin-Sidhe is her master…"

Wink nodded, it was not uncommon for a master to claim parental rights to an apprentice. He had seen it in the many long years with Nuada.

"We will be leaving at dawn, hopefully you shall follow shortly after…"

Wink made a sound of agreement as he turned back into the hut.

_**Late that night…**_

Nuada stirred, he did not need to open his eyes to know that Wink had found them shelter. The dull ache in his chest made it hard to focus, his last memory had been of a speeding projectile slamming into his flesh. When he made the effort to open his eyes, his blurred vision showed him a dream.

_How fitting, he thought, a Beansidhe to sing me across the veil…_

A gentle touch to the mark on his temple, and a pause to the song that now soothed the ache in his chest.

"Sleep…Heal…Dream…"

His eyes drifted closed and he faded into sleep with the Beansidhe's song.

Wink was startled awake after moonrise to see the girl kneeling beside Nuada's bed. The haunting sound drifted to him. This too would haunt him for the rest of his days. The eerie song was oddly comforting, soothing the weary parts of his soul. Letting out a sigh, he turned back to sleep and the girl to her task.

Wink was up well before dawn to aid the two singers and their escort in saddling their horses. The young Singer's song still lingered in his mind. Lifting the girl's saddle, he saw an ornate hilt half covered by the bag's flap. He set the saddle upon the horse and tightened the girth, there were many reasons one would carry a blade upon the road and he had learned long ago not to ask.

"…Our invitation to travel with us still stands." The escort said. "The prince could be tended better and you are more than welcome to travel with us."

Win refused, the Singer needed no more attention. He indicated he and his liege would follow in their wake. The escort tucked the blade deeper into the bag before the elder Singer could see it.

"…It is unwise to leave such things exposed." The man said as the girl approached. "One would mistake you for an assassin, little Pearl."

"I will be mistaken for many things." She said, softly. "Like now, I am mistaken for a simpering girl…"

Both Wink and the escort looked over at the Goblin-Sidhe. The escort made a noise as he aided the girl into the saddle and watched her take a proper seat.

"Anyone with proper eyes would not mistake you for that…" The man said, and then turned to Wink. "We will bring news of your arrival to the healers of the enclave…"

Wink nodded as the escort swept into his own saddle and led the two singers down the road.

Wink watched them go, intrigued by the girl. He turned into the hut to change the bandages and prepare to travel on behind the singers and their escort. It was not until he was packing up their belongings that he noticed the prince's damaged armor in plain sight. The royal seal was unmistakable. He was fortunate neither the escort nor the elder singer had mentioned it, perhaps knowing whom they sheltered with the night before. The morning mist had cleared by the time he had the prince dressed for travel and their belongings packed. With a weary sigh, he hefted his burdens and made his slow way to the enclave and sanctuary.


	2. Yule

The eleventh moon...

Wink cursed the ill luck that had delayed them; it had taken a week to cover a distance that would have taken two days in fair weather. The day they had set out behind the three riders, an early fall rain had soaked he and Nuada to the skin. The troll wasn't bothered much by the weather; the prince was another story all together. Under normal circumstances the rain would have had little effect upon the prince's health, but he was already weakened by his injuries and the damp had settled into his lungs with alarming speed.

A swarm of healers descended upon them as they crossed into the Enclave boarders, vanishing into the nearest cottage with the ill Sidhe prince. One spared only a moment to direct the troll to the guest hall in the center of the enclave. He gave a nod, knowing from experience it would be some time before the healers let him anywhere near his prince.

The trail was easy enough to follow, marked with white boundary stones it led in and out of the trees in the distance. As he navigated the path, he wondered if the Singers had told them of their impending arrival or if the guardians had spotted them as they approached. He kept an eye out for them, hoping to catch a glimpse of the two gray cloaks or some sign of their presence.

He did not have to wait long; he was warming himself by the fire and drying out the gears of his hand when the young Singer and another came through the door. The rain had darkened their cloaks into dark shadows. He was slightly stunned when she pushed back her hood. Even looking like a drowned Naiad, she had an odd beauty. He knew this would be one of the factors that would draw the prince to her.

"…So we meet again." She said softly as she hung her cloak upon a peg near the hearth. "I am glad you and your liege have made it here, the snows are quick to follow the rain, or so I am told…"

She could not have been more than seventeen winters. He gave a nod of acknowledgement as she vanished into the depths of the guesthouse.

_**Three days later…**_

The healers finally allowed him to see Nuada, he'd been worried by the rasping sounds from the fine linen sheeted bed until the head healer spoke.

"…The journey in the damp caused the sickness to take hold. His wound complicated matters." He said. "But all has been tended."

Wink started to tell the Head Healer who they really were when he held up a hand to silence his words.

"…We know well who you are, Lord Wink." He gave a soft laugh, "The King's messenger preceded you. Lord Haladar has gave you leave until next Samhain…"

_A year, Wink thought, it's been the longest any Sidhe Lord has granted us leave to stay. They usually fear we will bring discovery and despoilment…_

"We will have a cottage prepared for you and Prince Nuada…until then, the connecting room is yours…"

Wink nodded, letting out a breath he'd forgotten he'd been holding. At least for now, he and his prince had a place to call home…

_**Two weeks later...**_

Wink watched the healers wring out cloths and place them upon the prince. He had never seen his prince so weak or helpless. The illness had worsened, ravaging through Nuada's body. Blood loss from the wound had weakened him and the sickness had taken hold in the absence of strength. It worried him that the rasping breaths were getting wetter and more liquid.

"…The young Singer may be of some help…" The Head Healer Suggested, "She has some skill for healing…"

Wink remembered the haunting song the girl had sung to ease the prince into sleep. He agreed, hoping she could ease Nuada's pain once again.

Wink watched the young singer come into the room, her arms full with an overflowing craft basket. She tilted her head in acknowledgement of the troll as she made her way to Nada's bedside.

"…I'll see him well Master Wink." She said softly. "Your Liege is in good hands…"

She sat upon a low stool and began singing, taking up some bit of embroidery to pass the time. Even he found her singing reaching into places he'd forgotten were sore and hurting.

During the initial days she began singing, Wink began to observe and explore the surrounding environment. He learned why this enclave was so remote. There were humans living among the Sidhe. Only a small band, perhaps three to five extended families all told. It amazed him they lived in relative peace, almost as if they were Sidhe themselves. Then there were the carvings in the door lentils. The Gaelic phrase Muid Cuimhnigh, "We remember", was etched into the wood on nearly all of them. He asked the head healer when he'd come to examine the prince, curious as to why humans were welcome among them.

"They are the rare ones, they remember we were of one blood once." The healer said. "They call themselves the Children of Aiglin…"

Win did not question further, knowing how Nuada felt about humans.

Wink saw the singer almost daily, her fingers deftly working a delicate pattern in the lace stretched on the hope in her lap or her arms full of evergreen boughs for decoration of the hearth. She would weave these as she sang of the approach of the longest night.

Nuada slowly began to regain his senses. The first times he surfaced, his own breathing sounded like his lungs were clogged with slime, but he was thankful he had not crossed the veil. Then he heard the Beansidhe again, her song drifting over him. He drifted into sleep, letting these notes carry him into the darkness where he dreamed of a world wiped clean of human's taint.

Each time after, he could spend a little more time awake. Even the foul brew they were spooning into him seemed a delight as long as she sang to him. Her songs were the one constant as his breathing became less labored. Each time she would have some bit of craft in her hands, the hours passing on the notes of song as she plied her needle into the delicate lace.

Win watched the girl sing as she served dinner from the communal hearth to the healers. He marveled at the ease, which she shifted from healer to helper. The Goblin-Sidhe always seemed to keep a keen eye on her as well.

"…A rare creature." Said a voice next to him.

He turned just enough to see the Royal Seal embroidered in dark thread upon a darker cloak. He nodded his head.

"She is the one chosen, or so I am told." The man said. "Ironic is it not, the one thing he despises he shall be bonded to…"

Wink frowned the girl was human. He wondered how long that fact could be kept from the prince or if it would be kept from him at all.

"I doubt he'll even notice that she isn't Sidhe." The man said. "She is enough like us to pass and in the Stag god's grip all he'll think of is getting his seed to catch..."

His frown deepened. The man noticed and stopped his line of thought; a bit ashamed he'd made a ill image of a scared rite.

"...I'm sorry Lord Wink, I've too long worn the guise of a crude rouge." The man said, shaking his head. "His Majesty chose her because of her gifts, and the singers ability to heal. Things I fear the prince will be in sore need of if he continues his war."

Wink had to agree, though he agreed with the premise of Nuada's war its actions weighed heavily upon him.

"It will be a few months yet...time enough to heal and become strong again."

The Troll nodded; there was plenty of time.

_**Yule Night...**_

Wink set the laden tray upon the bedside table, the rich scents rousing the prince from his light doze. Nuada was propped up and had been dozing upon the healer's insistence. Over the last weeks, the prince had been awake more recently as the wet sound left his breathing. The girl had been bringing food as well as song. This night though, she'd brought food, but did not stay to see it consumed.

"…Was it the girl?" Nuada said softly, not opening his eyes.

The Troll gave a soft grunt in affirmation as he looked over the tray.

"What delights…did the fair maiden bring us this time?"

Nuada opened his eyes to the feast. There was Goblin-chocolate in a small mug, thick slices of hearth-baked bread slathered with fresh butter, a rich stew, a few slices of ham and some dried fruit. The tray was adorned with a few sprigs of Holly.

"…A proper birthday feast." Nuada whispered hoarsely as Wink wrapped his hands around the mug. "…Will the fair maiden?"

Wink frowned, silencing him.

"I know old friend, Eat…"

Wink aided him with the stew and bread. The ham was cut up and fed in bite-sized pieces. The dried fruit was a sweet finish to a fine meal.

Nuada and Wink watched the girl return for the tray. The prince realized he did not even know her name, in all the weeks she had sung for him he'd only thought of her as a Beansidhe.

"Your name, fair one…" Nuada asked. "I have been rude not to ask."

She paused in her actions, a slight color to her cheeks.

"I am called Pen..." She said softly. "I will return with another mug in a few hours...so that you may sleep..."

It was the most they had heard out of her outside her songs. She turned to depart the room.

"I look forward to your presence…" Nuada said.

A soft blush went up Pen's neck as she departed.

_**A short time later...**_

Pen returned, with the promised mug. The blush came to her skin almost instantly when Nuada set eyes upon her. He was intrigued; he had never known a Sidhe maiden to blush so easily. The elder singer came up behind her as she placed the mug in Nuada's hands.

"…You have lingered long enough, little pearl," the elder man said. "Go join the others around the hearth…"

Pen rose, the faint glow of her blush still upon her skin. She took a last look at Nuada before vanishing out of the room. The elder man turned his attention to the Prince.

"…I would advise against attempting to court her, she is to be maiden come Beltane." The elder singer said "and wed soon after."

Nuada frowned; it meant she was to remain untouched. He envied the young male who would bed her in the new tilled fields and the man who would bed her for the rest of her days. It was unlike him to feel jealousy over a maiden whom he barely knew or hardly spoke to. His hand absently began to rub the spot beneath his heart as if it hurt.

"…She is a comely lass." Nuada said, the gesture offering no comfort. "I wish her a good match."

The elder singer nodded. "As do I. She won't be singing for you or bringing meals anymore…"

Nuada nodded, better to remove temptation than to have it linger. The elder Singer Left, leaving the prince to his thoughts.


	3. Imbulc

A new chapter...enjoy

The holiday the title refrences occurs in Febuary, and is dedicated to the Goddess Bridgid or Breed...The song Pen sings is called "Bridgid of the mantle"

* * *

_The first Moon...._

Nuada stood at the window watching the snow fall, his thoughts focused upon standing upright. His strength was returning and it hurt a lot less to breath. Having such a disease in his lungs should have killed him, but he was feeling an all too different ache. His ears picked up singing somewhere in the house, no doubt it was Pen. He had taken to attempt to rise early, just to hear her, the sweet notes flowing over a place in his heart that now seemed so empty. He stumbled back from the window, his strength failing.

Wink caught him and supported him back to bed. This had been the routine since That night the older man had said the girl was to be the maiden. He had seen the Prince in love before, but this was different it was as if one broken piece was being drawn to another. He trucked the prince into bed, watching him close his eyes and drift into sleep. When he was sure Nuada would not wake, he made his way to the main room to sit by the fire in peace.

Pen looked up as the Ogre came in, she rose and went into the depths of the house. Wink let out a sigh, so it appeared she was not to be unaccompanied in the presence of any man not just the prince. He set himself by the fire, wishing again to be underground in a warm cave. It was only a few moments later Pen returned, this time with another healer.

_So it would appear she is not going to let a male presence detour her from her task._ He thought.

She gave him a soft smile and went back to working the white on white embroidery of what looked like a wedding dress. The motif was that of the royal house of Bethmora, the ancient tree rendered lovingly stitch by stitch. He remembered the elder man had said that she was to be wedded shortly after being declared maiden.

He heard them talking of the prince, how hansom he was and how strong a warrior. All too quickly Pen went silent when the healer mentioned the Prince's war upon the humans. He watched her fingers tremble. The mention of war disturbed her, even more so a war upon humanity. No doubt she had grown up among Fey, shared their love for life and the earth.

"...The fields would never bloom again after being watered with so much blood.." She said softly.

The healer sitting with her didn't seem to hear her words and continued on about how the earth would be clean again. He watched her shake her head sadly, rise and fold the fabric she'd been lovingly embroidering carefully. She would turn away, trying to hide the tears.

He ventured to ask the healer why the girl was so upset about a war that had been going on for several thousand years.

"The singers long ago withdrew from the Prince's war, it is rumored they were the best warriors. Their songs brought devastation and toppled walls." The healer said. "The legend is they withdrew because of the death of one of their own...a human woman..."

He nodded, still curious as to why she had been chosen for the prince.

The prince quickly gained strength, soon having enough to sit by the fire in the main room and enjoy a communal meal. Wink had taken note that when the prince had been sequestered in his room, the human healers were a common sight but now that he could wander they were remarkably absent. Perhaps the head healer had told them of the prince's feelings, since only Pen remained. He had to remind himself that she was no ordinary healer. He would watch the prince steal glances of her, a longing he'd not seen since he'd courted Nuala blazing in his eyes.

Pen would sing after meals to pass the hours while she worked upon her bridal dress. Under the watchful eye of a healer or the elder singer the Prince would linger to listen to her. His amber gaze tracing every line of her. She would offer him a smile or when the fire burned low a good night. He would watch her go, somewhat heart broken. There was a need he had not felt before to be in her presence, but he would abide by the elder's request and did not court her as he desired.

Wink knew Nuada was falling for her, and hard. So much so that he grew suspicious of food and drink until the elder singer came to talk to him.

"...I know well for your concern, Lord Wink..." He said.

Wink paled, he had told no one but the head of the healing house.

"Oh yes I know who you and your companion are, though she does not." The singer said. "The food brought to you is unaltered, though I admit I would think the same to see my prince fall for a girl from a race of beings he hates. It was so for another prince long ago, that much of the legend is true."

Wink was surprised, though he asked why this girl and why now.

"...She has the power to make him see the price of the war he wages, not only for the humans but all of the unseen as well." The man shook his head. "It is why Balor locked away the army, he was made to see the price...and the folly of his mistake."

Wink shook his head, telling him the prince would not be deceived forever.

"He is not meant to be, once Pen is with child he will be told. By that time, his heart may overrule his head..." The elder singer sighed. "I forbade his courtship because the timing must be right, all the perorations have not been made."

Wink realized this went deeper than simply giving the prince a chance to open his eyes. The elder singer nodded at Wink's unspoken question.

"A son to be heir..." Was all the singer said. "If a daughter, another year will pass and we shall bring them together again..."

Wink could almost see Nuada's reaction to having sired a half-blood child.

"She belongs with him." the elder singer said. "She will be there to heal him when his world crumbles into dust."

Wink could do nothing but nod, he would stand by his vow to protect the prince, even if that meant protecting him from himself.

_Imbulc..._

That night's meal was Mutton stew, seemingly fitting since the small flock the enclave had was growing by ones and twos over the last week. Nuada watched Pen serve the rich dish from the cauldron upon the hearth, she even set one in his hands.

"Many thanks..." He said softly to her.

She only responded with a blush and moved on to serve the next bowl. The tune she sang honored a Goddess known as Breed.

"Bridget of the mantle encompass us/lady of the lambs protect us/keeper of the hearth kindle us/beneath your mantle gather us/ and restore us to memory..."

He listened to her, his heart pulled to remember. He had been so young when the tree had been sundered, he barely remembered it now.

"Please..." He said. "Stop..."

She paused mid song, looking at him. The elder singer was at her side in a heart beat.

"Is there something wrong..."

Nuada looked at him with eyes gone cold, an a voice so unlike himself came forth.

"Do not sing that song again in my presence..." He rose, turning away.

Wink took one look at the singers and then went to find out what was wrong with the prince.

Wink found the prince leaning against the door way. Heavy sobs shook the Prince's frame, the song had stirred a memory. He guided the prince into his chambers, only to be pushed away.

"Leave me, my friend..." He said. "Go enjoy your dinner..."

He refused, he wasn't going to leave the prince alone. Only once before had he seen him like this, the loss of a kinsman who was the same age as he. He suspected it had to do more with the girl singing than the song.

"...She is..."

If Nuada was going to finish that sentence Wink did not know, a scream cut the air.

Both he and the prince ran into the main room, a distraught human woman held out her child to one of the healers. The child's arm was in shreds, the result of playing "hide and seek" in a patch of dry thorns. One of the healers directed her to the hearth, while others scattered in all directions. This left the two singers.

"...Let me see..." he heard Pen say in a low voice.

He watched as she took the child's maimed arm in her hands and began to sing. The clear notes stopping any protests escaping from his lips. Wink had heard the notes before, but these notes were clearer more forceful.

By the time the other healers got back, the child's arm had stopped bleeding, giving them on less thing to worry about.. Nuada watched her rise and stumble, he was there to catch her in a heart beat. He had only a moment to study her before the elder singer took her from his arms.

"In fortnight she shall be maiden..." Was all the elder singer said to him. "Stay away from her..."

He stood there, his arms empty of the slight weight that had seemed to rest so comfortably within them.


	4. Ostara

A new chapter, and another holiday...Some good loving next chapter...enjoy....

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_Third moon..._

Wink watched Nuada pace up and down in agitation. Something was bothering the prince. He knew exactly what it was, the humans. Since the night the woman had come with her child, the prince had been in a foul mood. He did not know if it was the fact that there were humans in the enclave or that they were proving his views about them wrong. The Ogre having had more opportunity to see the humans and the Fey interact tried his best to act as a buffer between them and Nuada.

Having chosen to remain close to the healing house, they saw Pen more but she seemed to shy away from them. It seemed as if having saved the child made her more withdrawn. This too might have added to the foul mood Nuada had sunk into. It was as if the prince was building up his courage, the she appeared with the white ribbons of the maiden in her hair. Talk of who the elders would choose for the Young god began to filter through the enclave, seeming to add another layer to the Prince's agitation.

The Ogre quickly began to strongly encourage Nuada to take his place in the choosing with the other young Fey males. The Prince was not so sure he wished to join the enclave in its celebration, with with the humans attending. He had to admit this was the first time in centuries he'd seen humans who seemed to have no hole in their hearts and if they did, something other than greed filled them.

_Ostara..._

Wink had less that a fortnight to convince Nuada to join in the Choosing. It wasn't until they overheard two healers talking of the wedding that would follow the celebration, that the prince realized how much he had missed celebrating the change of seasons. It would be a wedding fit for a prince, or so the healers said. Nuada heard his name mentioned as a possible choice, his mouth dropped open. Wing gently closed it, before it gave away their eavesdropping. He took one look at Wink and shook his head, he would not make his decisions so rashly.

With the announcement of the Choosing, all the young men of the village began to pay court to the Maiden. Tokens given in passing, marks of the young men given to be chosen as her consort for the remainder of the year. Nuada held back, approaching to pay compliments but refusing to give her some token of his intent. It wasn't until he touched him gently upon the arm, he turned and lost himself in the cool green that met his gaze.

"...Join us," She said softly. "Please...Join us in the mother's celebration of life..."

Her voice touched some part of him, buried beneath a hatred he'd harbored for so long. It took him a moment to realize she had moved to walk past him. Perhaps in that moment, the Prince's fate was sealed.

Wink found the prince shortly after with one of his sashes, picking the stitches that held his personal seal to the fabric. He knew their identity would be known after the celebration, even if Nuada did not enter the choosing. He looked up at Wink, the ogre saw the look of desperation in the Prince's amber eyes.

"...She has to be mine Wink." He whispered softly. "She will wash the blood from my hands..."

Only Wink knew how close to the edge of madness Nuada had ventured in his long exile. Now he saw what it had done to him, how it had worn away the strands of his soul. He knew now why the young Singer had been chosen to be his bond mate, she would be the one person who could give him the clean death he would crave by the journey's end.

The next day, Nuada made it a point to find her, placing the seal in her hand. He folded her hand over it, then turned and walked away. The enclave was soon abuzz with who exactly the elf and his Ogre companion might be. Everything from close to the truth to the young god incarnate coming to claim his bride. After that, Nuada was content to watch her as the other young males paid her compliments or gave her small tokens of affection. It would be up to the elders of the enclave to decide which of them would be chosen as her consort.


	5. Beltain

*smirks* another chapter, rather quickly too...*snuggles her pet Nuada*muse is being a good boy...

All I got to say, horned and Horny Nuada...and a little Wink...

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_Fourth moon..._

Talk of the celebration and whom the elders would choose was soon on everyone's lips. Wink watched the prince grow ever restless, pacing almost like a cornered stag. If he hadn't known better, he could have sworn Nuada already had the great crown of antlers upon his head. He also watched the Prince shy away from any touch, become skittish even around him. The closer to Beltain, the closer to a wild creature the prince became, already on his way to becoming a vessel for the young stag lord.

To Wink's relief, the prince wasn't the only male exhibiting this behavior. Over half the enclave's young men were going into a type of rut. Even the bonded males seemed to puff up and stomp the ground at the young ones, warning them away from their mates. He watched the unboned women draw tighter about their own, leaning from the older women how to handle rutting males. He came to have great admiration for the women, having to deal with so many men who were being taken over by the young god's virility.

Fights began to break out, the young bucks testing each other; seeking out who was strongest. Nuada threw himself eagerly into this, fending off all those he saw as rivals for the maiden's affections. The elders began staging contests to alleviate some of the tension around the enclave. These too Nuada joined, easily defeating a good portion of the males who challenged him.

All too quickly the time came, the elders set the bonded males to acquire the may pole, the tall tree to be adorned with ribbons. The unboned females began to show interest in one young male or another, drawing away from seeking the maiden. Soon only Nuada and one other male, a wood elf who went by the use name Oak, were all that was left to vie for the Maiden's affections and the gift of her innocence.

Wink had taken to following Pen, Often finding her going trough a martial routine in a clearing. It had grace and power. It wasn't until he saw her working with two wooden practice swords that he learned she wasn't as defenseless as one would think. He did not tell Nuada of his spying upon the girl, he did not want that jealous gaze turned upon him. He could hurt the prince, and had done it on many occasions when he knew Nuada was going to do something that would bring much regret and not just to himself.

Her style was rough, not the fluid movements of her routines. The weight must have been unfamiliar to her, a new skill given to learn. As the weeks to Beltain passed, her skill was still rough but she was getting used to the weight centered upon her wrists. Wink knew why she was training, why she was being taught the skills he had observed. It wrenched his heart to know that one day, if the gods were kind, Nuada would return "home" and find her waiting; as his executioner.

That was how Balor's messenger found him, watching her go through the movements. The man seemed to have the same melancholy expression he did.

"...Pray to what ever god your people worship Lord Wink, that she won't have to kill him." The man said. "Her skills are a precaution, not an act written in stone. Beltain in two weeks away, and it is good to see the prince has joined the other young men. He will make her a good bond mate, and the princess may have some peace."

Wink remembered Nuada courting Nuala, the princess had been flattered at first but then rejected him. Perhaps because of the closeness of their bond and the madness that had consumed a good portion of his soul. Wink indicated the girl, wanting to know about children.

"It will be some time, hence you staying until Autumn." The man said. "You will be told if she conceives or not, if his seed takes root...do not allow him to harm her or the child."

Wink made a grunt of agreement, children were precious to the Sidhe even those who were half-blood. He knew Nuada would be ferrous that he'd seeded a human, but even more so at being kept from his child.

"He will win the last contest, it will be a hunt...bare handed...to provide food for the feast..."

Wink made a noise, it meant who ever brought back a stag would be wearing its skin.

Beltain...

Both Nuada and Oak were aroused early, stripped down to near nothing and told to bring back the biggest stag they could find. After being given a special drink, they were sent off, the elders watching them. One thing the elders did not tell them was there was only one such stag in the forest. Only one of them would be coming back, and they had insured it would be Nuada...

Nuada returned at midday, the stag over his shoulders. He was covered in enough blood to have turned his flaxen hair crimson. A few of the older males and the bonded women came to take the stag away. He surrendered the stag, but watched where the other males were going with his kill. He was directed to bathe in the stream, to prepare for the maiden.

The cold water cleared Nuada's head of the haze that had over taken him shortly after consuming the drink the elders gave him. His ribs ached, he had wrestled the stag to the ground but the creature had fought hitting much like fists. The thrill that he had gotten breaking the stag's neck and tearing out its throat with his teeth still sent a tingle down his spine. He scented the air, meddow and wildflowers greeted him. It was the maiden's smell, fresh and innocent. He licked his dark lips, soon she would be beneath him. He would not let her up until her belly grew ripe with his seed, and into the mother's full bloom. With those delicious thoughts in his head, he cleaned the last of the blood from his body.

When Nuada returned to the main part of the enclave, the young males shied from him and the females watched him with lust filled gazes. His eyes however, were looking for one visage. He saw her weaving a crown of flowers around an antler crown, his crown. His groin tightened as he watched her caress the tips of the horns, soon her fingers would be caressing him that way. There was still the rituals to be preformed, he knew, but at the moment patience was not going to be his strong suite. When her head came up to look at him, his heart stopped.

Pen rose from where she sat, the crown in her fingers. She saw him there, still damp from his bath. She walked toward him, pausing about a foot from him. She could see the bruises upon his body, their lovemaking in the field would add to them. She remembered the young god from years previous, after the consummation his body would hold the bruises for days. His hands extended to touch her, she shook her head.

"Not yet my stag lord..." She whispered, but to him it sounded as clear as day.

She watched as one of the other males came up to him and put a mug in his hands. He looked down at the red liquid within, blood from the stag. Her nod was the only acceptance he needed. He drank, the still warm liquid flowing down his throat, trickles flowing down the corners of his mouth. She watched his throat work, wondering what would happen when she placed kisses upon it.

He lowered the mug, looking at her. He took a step to close the gap between them, then paused as a small group of males surrounded him and drew him toward one side of the Green. He was stunned a moment when she gave the crown to the priest who walked ahead of the males calling the names of the god...

"Pan, Hern, Osiris, priapis, Baal, Dionysus, Apollo, Lugh..." The Priest called.

The males joined him, even Nuada felt his mouth form the words. Oh how long had it been since he called the Great God's names.

Pen laughed happily as the priestess and the other unboned women began to surround her. She joyously went to the woman's side of the green. As with the Males, the priestess called out the names of the Great Goddess...

"Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna..." The Priestess called.

The woman joined, even Pen's voice could be heard blending with that of the other women.

Soon they all stood around the May Pole, ready to dance. All save she and Nuada took up ribbons, they were to stand with the priest and priestess. On a signal, the mummers began to play, and the dance began. Pen would steal a glance toward Nuada, his eyes were unfocused and his breathing heavy. The pole soon vanished beneath its ribbons, woven intercalate around it. When the weaving was completed, all turned their attention to where the young god and maiden stood.

Nuada looked at her, the heavy dear skin still sticky lay upon his back. The priest gave her the crown, she walked toward him. Instinct made him back up slightly, until she reached one hand up and touched his temple.

"...Shush..." She whispered raising the crown to his eye level. "These are yours...my beautiful stag..."

He bowed his head, catching her scent again. The crown was heavy, resting where she had touched him. His mouth opened slightly at the weight upon his temples. He barely registered the priestess placing a crown of flowers about the maiden's head.

His steps were unsteady as she led him toward the bower, they would fest and then spill out into the fields. His focus sharpened as two attendants offered them food. He caught the rich scent of chocolate, mostly dipped fruit. He watched in awe as she picked up one of the strawberries and offered it to him. He took it delicately with his lips, savoring the sweetness of the fruit and the richness of chocolate. He wondered if she would taste just as sweet, and leaned down to take his first kiss from her lips. She returned the kiss, her hand delicate upon the side of his face.

Food and drink did not dull the weight that rested upon Nuada's brow. He shook his head slightly to balance the weight and realized there were bells woven among the flowers. He heard her soft giggle, chastising himself for not noticing them earlier, he silenced her with a soft kiss. She was leaning into him, nuzzling his bare chest a moment later.

"Shall we go into the fields..." He whispered, his voice thick with drink and the god's power.

"Yes my stag..." She whispered back.

He rose gently, offering his hand. She rose and took it, another kiss followed. This one filled with passion and power.

He laid her down upon soft earth, his hands roaming her body. Hers were doing much the same. The kisses had heated, tongues wrestling with each other. He broke their kisses long enough to speak a single endearment in the old tongue, one he would never speak to another; not even Nuala.

"I belong to you..."

she reached up to touch his lips, tracing their full outline before reaching into his hair to pull him back into another heated kiss. His fingers found her folds and began to delicately trace them, arousing her slowly. His thumb slid across the small nub, bringing a soft gasp to her. He wanted her first climax to come with his fingers, so she could get used to the intrusion of something between her warm folds.

When her fingers reached him, they were hesitant and unskilled. He gasped softly when her fingers brushed across the tip. He wanted to guide her, teach her what pleased him. Another gasp and a groan when she gently stroked, her fingers skimming over his length. It had been a very long time since he'd been touched, true there had been dalliances but nothing that touched him so deeply.

"Are you ready for me..." He whispered, now too eager to wait as her fingers tightened around him.

She could only nod softly, barely seen in the dark. He parted her thighs gently, reaching to move her hand and angeling himself to slide into her.

He was as gentle as he could be with the God's power riding him, her cry of pain was caught in a kiss as he pulled her against him. He held her, her legs wrapping around his hips to hold him inside. They staid that way for a long time, her getting used to his size and he holding off because of how tightly she gripped him. Her lips left his and made a trail down his throat as she tried to move, to ease the ache she felt. He stilled her with his hands upon her hips.

"Slowly..." He managed. "We have all of this night..."

He began to move, helping her match the rhythm with his hands.

The soft gasps in his ear made him go slow, picking at his control. Her arms came around his back, her nails digging in slightly. He gave a soft hiss, he'd gladly wear the marks of her nails come morning. He nuzzled her neck, kissing and seeking, a little love bite to mark her his. Her gasp and a thrust of her hips was the response. He felt her trying to do the same, this too he'd gladly display come the dawn. The feel of her teeth breaking skin caused him to thrust hard into her, never had something like that caused such a reaction. She gripped him tighter, and his thrusts became urgent. With a stag like bellow, Nuada spilled into her. He kept thrusting, wanting to hear her cries as her body took from his. She scored long scratches down his back and bit harder as her own release overtook her.

Long languid moments later, he became aware of her tongue licking the bite at his shoulder softly. He eased her back to the ground, still within her. He felt her hand reach up and brush away a damp strand of hair, her fingers brushing the antlers. His groin tightened, causing her to arch into him. He let out a soft groan, supporting himself upon his hands. The caresses upon his back were gentle, brushing over the scratches scoring his flesh. He looked down at her, her eyes were half closed.

"...Again..." She whispered.

He was a bit amazed, he expected her to want to rest after her first time. He knew once the union was made and the fields blessed, what followed after was for them.

It was only after their third coupling did Pen fall asleep in the shelter of his arms, pressed against his chest. It took him a bit longer to fall into slumber, so many emotions twisted within him. One of them, he had not felt in a long time; peace. He looked down at her, her hand was pressed to his heart. Some part not yet cloaked in the darkness whispered he could have this sense of peace if he remained with her. He knew he could not remain, not when his people needed him. He put his hand over hers, willing himself to remember the feel of her skin upon his.

As he fell asleep, Nuada made a vow to himself that while he remained, no other man would have her bed or her body. She was his, as he said he belonged to her and she the same. He pulled her closer, giving her the warmth of his body as the night chilled to dawn.


	6. Litha

*grins* here it is, a new chapter...took a while, real life kind of took over, enjoy...

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Three days after Beltain...

Nuada pulled Pen closer to him, relishing in the feel of her skin against his. She snuggled in close and nuzzled softly. The last three mornings had been spent around the enclave tending to various annoyances, the nights were spent in each other's arms. Almost from the hour they'd returned from the fields, he told Wink to find other lodgings, he wanted no other man to be in her presence. She continued to nuzzle, her teeth softly nipping the skin. He let out a soft sound, giving her assent to her explorations of his body. He had only begun to teach her the pleasure that could be had with a skillful lover, there would be many lessons.

He tangled his fingers in her hair when he felt her breath brush against his stomach. He tugged gently, not wanting her to learn too quickly. She responded with a soft kiss on his hip and her fingers beginning their exploration. He shifted so he could watch the expressions on her face as she discovered his reactions to her gentle and hesitant touches.

She watched in awe as the skin sheathing the head moved back and forth to the movement of her fingers over it. She knew most elves were "intact" not understanding why humans "Mutilated" themselves for something simple as ethicists. Some elves were larger than the average male, Nuada was no exception to this. She listened as her fingers brought soft gasps from his lips, until the sheath didn't quite cover the tip anymore. His hand stopped hers.

"Enough..." He breathed. "We will not waste this night in love play..."

He pulled her on top of him, moaning as she settled herself upon him.

With a careful stretch, he raised his hands above his head and gripped the bed post. He moaned when she began to move, leaning up to tie his hands to it with one of his sashes. He was not usually one for this particular form of love play, but he wanted her to learn to have a "Proper seat" when "riding". He gently tugged at the knot, feeling it tighten slightly. He then nodded when she softly asked if he was ready. She began moving, her hands upon his shoulders.

Soon enough he was tugging at the knot with every arch of his body, his hands trying to grip something as his senses were focused upon her. Kisses were heated with need and urgency as they began to reach for their goal. Release arched his body off the bed, her clinging as she followed.

The Sixth moon...

Nuada was disappointed when her monthly courses came, but thought nothing of it. It usually took several moths for elvish women to conceive. He hoped she would grow ripe with his child before he had to depart, something to remember him by. He could not help but think of a small child, an image of a son with her jade eyes; or perhaps a daughter with her dark hair.

It pained him, these thoughts, often they would become jumbled with others. He would look at one of his hands, as if he saw blood upon it. He had not ventured to question after the wood elf after the celebration. He had a horrid feeling it wasn't just a stag he'd slaughtered with his bare hands. He would close that hand into a fist, wanting to smash it into something to erase the blood he saw upon it.

When it would get too much, she seemed to appear with a soft word or a gentle touch. Even drawing him into lovemaking if that was what it too to distract him. He would lay quiet in her arms, letting her fingers trace the planes and ridges of his face. The scar across it seemed a particular fascination for her, and he let her trace it again and again, his heart lifted by her touch.

"...Do not go to war..." She said one night. "Stay here and raise our children..."

How she knew he would leave to continue his war, he did not know. Her tone was not pleading, nor condoling, just simple fact.

"If you go to war, you will die..."

"I will not die, I will return for you...and if the gods are kind, our child."

She shook her head. "Your death clings to you like a shadow..."

He looked down into her face and kissed her forehead.

"...Then I will need your light to drive it away..."

"I can not drive away what is so deeply rooted in your soul..." She said, kissing his lips.

After that, he was left to wonder what she meant by his death being rooted in his soul.

As the days to Litha passed, Wink watched a change come over the prince. Nuada was the most lively he'd seen in centuries, more like the boy he'd met in the tunnels around the Dublin market. To see some aspect of that boy again delighted him. The fact that the prince was in love and blind to anything but the girl delighted him too. Seeing him so happy for the first time in an age, took his mind off what would happen when they would have to leave. Again they would be at war with the humans, endangering all of them once more.

Wink still followed Pen when she would slip away in the early dawn. Her martial routine had become faster, perhaps to counter elvish speed and grace. Her work with the swords became soother, more practiced. He could not help but see Nuada at the end of one when she turned and executed a pivot thrust.

One day, she looked up and saw him standing just outside her little clearing. She had noticed him there before, but had thought him just another observer.

"...Peace." She said. "You've been standing there a while haven't you?"

He gave a soft nod, he understood the common tongue but did not speak it.

"You're Wink is it?"

He nodded, he'd given his name to the healers so they could tell him what was going on with the Prince.

"You're Nuada's companion..."

again he nodded.

"You won't tell him I've been out?"

He shook his head, he wouldn't tell the prince a damn thing until it was time.

"You've traveled with him a long time, haven't you."

He nodded, making an Ogerish noise of agreement. He watched her gather up her practice swords and conceal them in an oak hollow.

"When you and Nuada leave..." She smiled. "Make sure he lives...whatever war he intends to wage will cost him so much."

He nodded, then indicated he'd escort her back to the enclave.

"Thank you, I'd be grateful for the company..."

Wink gave her one soft nod, wondering if she had the gift of sight as well as the gifts of a singer.

Two weeks to Midsummer...

Nuada watched Pen preparing a meal, even the simplest of her movements held him in rapture. The other women around her noticed him and with a few whispers, got her to blush. He came into the kitchen and took a spot at the warn table, taking up a knife and a few carrots.

"You don't need to help me with dinner." She said, smiling as she watched him deftly peel the carrots without much effort. "I can handle it."

"I wish to be with you. There is little else to do, and I am a guest I wish to repay the enclave's hospitality."

She smiled as she worked on a few more of the early root vegetables.

"...The elders have said you will leave at Samhain..."

He looked up at her, then nodded.

"I shall be back to my full strength then, and I must return..." He said, cutting the carrots carefully. "I will be saddened to leave..."

She leaned across the table, giving him a soft peck upon his cheek. The women around them giggled when she pulled back. He gave her one of those cocky grins and returned to chopping carrots.

Later that evening...

The elders of the enclave called both Pen and Nuada to council. The crone and sage positioned them across from each other, having them clasp opposite hands. The words that were spoken, Pen did not understand; not fully. Nuada however, knew each and every one. The words of the scared marriage, binding the king to the land in the form of the maiden. Their hands were bound, and led to a room.

It was there, the vows were consummated, eagerly though not so much as the night of Beltain. Their hands remained bound well into the night. It was well after moon set that Pen used her free hand to trace the lines of Nuada's face.

"...I belong to you..." He whispered. "Now until the end of time..."

She shook her head in the dim light, "Then we've not long at all..."

He pulled her close to him. "Then all time is this moment..."

She ran her hand down his chest, feeling a scar that was very real to her eyes. She knew it was not there, not yet.

"...You won't petition them to remain, will you?"

He shook his head, "I would bring danger here, and I will not bring darkness to this place."

"Have you not already with with resides in you?"

he closed his eyes, how deep did she know.

"...It will consume you." She said softly, tracing a very real scar on his side. "It will be an act of love that ends your war and your life."

He held her, "Do you have the gift of sight?"

she shook her head. "It was once told to me by an old woman...Much like the crone. I was very young, but I remember." She pulled him against her, her knee sliding up between his legs, "She told me I would mourn my heart twice over, but I would gain it back again."

He made a soft noise when her knee gently rubbed. He rolled so she was on top, pulling her against his chest.

"Speak not of mourning, not when joy will come of this..."

she shifted to lay at his side, her free hand moving to touch and arouse. He made a soft noise as she leaned over and licked the mark on his shoulder. He pulled her close again , drawing into the oldest dance.

The Week before midsummer...

Nuada knew Pen rose early and would usually return a short while later with breakfast and a most delightful good morning. Like himself, her clothing hid how lithe she was. He was saddened that his seed hadn't taken root as of yet. It was almost near the fullness of the mother's bounty and he longed to see her grow ripe with his child before he had to depart.

He watched her sleep, curled in the shelter of his body. He held her close to him, wanting to put every moment in his memory. Deep within he wanted a reason to stay, to find some peace after the long centuries of war. He could not stay, and he knew he could not because of his own foolish quest. For a moment, he wished he had never encouraged his father to have the army built...

Nuada's feelings about humans did not change, not even getting to know the small band who shared the enclave with the Sidhe changed his mind or attitude to them as a species. Pen would quietly shake her head at this, never telling him what his eyes would one day register. She was enough alike in her mannerisms and speech to pass for one of the Fey, but any truly looking at her would know her for human. It hurt to know how deeply he hated, a hollow part so filled that she doubted he even knew how deep it was.

Litha...

Every one was out in the summer sun, drinking, dancing and talking of the handfastings that would soon be taking place. The one that was on everyone's lips was of the prince, rumor said he had come to the enclave in the dead of night and left early the next morning. Only Nuada knew the truth, he'd been there for months. He looked at Pen, true enough he'd spoken vows to her, ones he would have to honor even if he took a queen. He would have to acknowledge and provide for any children as well.

He looked to see Pen approaching, a wreath of flowers in her hair. She stopped before him, smiling. His expression took that smile from her face. He reached out and pulled her close to him, holding her against his chest.

"...you shouldn't stray so far, little singer." He said softly. "You worry me when you do."

She looked up at him, he a good head and shoulders taller. He brushed fingers across her face.

"I was just talking to the priestess, comparing a recipe or two."

He smirked, reaching for one of the full mugs as the tray went by. Human brewed spirits had little effect, but their flavor was remarkable.

"...I wish you to stay at my side tonight..."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, I just prefer you to stay with me." He said, keeping one arm around her. "...I wish to sneak off for a swim..."

She smirked, their last swim ended up on the banks several yards from a group of fishermen. It had been delightful even if they had to keep quiet.

"Then I will join you, there is little for us to do now that things are underway." She said. "We could go back to..."

He gave her a bone melting grin, he knew exactly where to take her for their swim.

"...The mill pond." He said. "and I will be keeping my pants well in sight..."

She suppressed a giggle, the miller had found Nuada's pants in the water wheel the day after that little escapade. She'd had to borrow him one of her skirts to return in, and that had turned into another little escapade she remembered fondly.

"Perhaps I should dress you in a kilt this time..."

He had seen several men in the short garment, he could see the advantages of one but had no intention of putting tender parts up against wool.

"if it were not wool, I would be glad for it."

She laughed. "There are ones of good broad cloth and easily made..."

He looked down at her. "perhaps I shall wish for one then..."

she grinned, she'd have to take measurements, but one could easily be made for him.

"Let us go, before someone else gets the idea that swimming in the mill pond is a wonderful way to pass the day."

He smiled, turning toward the pond.

Several hours later...

Nuada lay on the bank, wonderfully naked as the cool summer breeze dried his skin. His garments were a bit farther up the bank and well away from the water. Pen lay next to him, equitably naked and content. She was tracing the scars upon his skin, even the one that had sent he and Wink seeking shelter at the enclave. Only a few short moons had he would leave, this peace and the woman/child who granted it. Perhaps it was fate she was not yet pregnant, a sign that he should stay and forget his war.

He knew he could not, would not end it. Not while humans destroyed all around them, for a moment he felt the weight of the antler crown upon his temples and looked to see her hand resting upon his face. He turned his head to look at her, her expression was one of wistfulness.

"...I too wish I could stay..." He said softly.

"I know, there will be a child..." She said.

He hoped with all his heart there would be.


	7. Lamas

Yay, something good...

A little suprise, and some fan service, as well as a bit of intrigue...enjoy

* * *

_Two weeks after Litha..._

Nuada emerged from his bath to see Pen laying out something upon the bed. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed buckles and leather. She looked up from her task and smiled. It took him a moment to recognize the garment on the bed was the kilt she'd teased him about. He came close and touched one of the pleats, good cloth met his fingers.

"You said if I could get one of good cloth..." She said, reaching up to touch the center of his chest. "Its modified so you just put it on..."

He smirked down at her. "demonstrate..."

She grinned and picked up the garment and wrapped it about his hips. She began fastening the buckles, tightening them enough to keep the garment closed.

"Perhaps when I'm done..." She said, kneeling to buckle the ones that kept it from flying in a wind. "I should show you off...your too good a sight not to share..."

He didn't know wither to be flattered or annoyed by her remark

"have you dressed another man thus?"

She gave him a soft smile. "No, you are the first..."

He smiled down at her when she rose to inspect the fit. The red and black fabric hung near perfect upon his lean form. She pulled him close and kissed a spot on his chest.

"I hear there are many advantages to this garment."

she smiled and ran her hand up his thigh, a near thrill to be so accessible to her and yet clothed.

"all sorts of advantages..." She said as her hand reached what she sought and began to tease. "Such as access..."

He pulled her close, tapping her hand and her against him.

"Tease away, little singer..."

She proceeded to do just that.

Wink was glad the prince had found such joy in the girl. He was leaning against a door post when he heard their voices, usually calm raised in anger. The prince was striding though the enclave with a wad of sodden fabric with Pen close behind. It was obvious that the Prince was bare ass naked and ignoring the stares.

"I told you not to try to walk on the water wheel...it was not safe."

He spun on her, "Be lucky I can swim..."

"Suborn..." was the only word could make out as they went by. "You did not have to try to catch the damn fish either."

He paused, wrung more water from what was his kilt and kept going. She said something in troll that made Wink wonder who had been teaching her how to swear. Nuada paused, turned, dropped the sodden mass and strode back to where she stood.

"Little girls should not say such things." He said, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder and giving her ass four hard whacks; one for each word. "...They might get spanked."

He dropped her, making no attempt to cushion the fall and walked back to his kilt, picked it up and walked away.

The bonded couples who had witnessed the incident found it amusing, the young couple going through their first lover's spat. They did not talk to each other, save in terse sentences for over a week. Wink did not find it amusing, he had to listen to the prince sprout off about unruly women. He was on the verge of taking the prince out into the woods and beating him black and blue. Then something happened to break their silence.

The shouts rang through the enclave, the young singer had gone missing. She'd last been seen heading toward the woods to gather herbs for the healers. An hour later one of the scouts found her carry basket and her cloak next to the river. One of the scouts returned with news of strangers in their woods. Nuada was one of the first to talk to the scout.

"...What did you find." The prince hissed.

"Three men, well outfitted, Guns...capture gear..." The scout said. "One of them looked like he had his teeth near knocked down his throat. Their camp is an hour by human reckoning from spot where the singer's basket and cloak were found."

the prince did not like this one bit, "did you confirm wither the singer was with them or not?"

"Must have been, since the three of them were making bed rolls on the ground, talking about hunting more of us in the morning."

Nuada got an evil grin upon his face. "Wink, bring me my cloak and lance. Some humans are going to learn to fear the dark..."

Wing indicate there could be undo attention if bodies were found in the woods.

"What bodies." The scout said. "they'll just be another set of lost hunters in the woods...by the time their reported missing, the local troll market will have fresh meat..."

Nuada liked this scout. "Has a party be gathered?"

"the Singer is one of us, and our maiden, we will defend her to the death." The scout said. "We have four archers, and two boggles..."

Nuada knew the boggles could get close to the camp without much fuss.

"The boggle's names?"

"Rumor and whisper...they see everything..."

the prince laughed, fitting for a pair of creatures.

"Let us get there..." Nuada said as Wink returned with the requested items.

The scout smiled and headed toward the woods with the party close behind.

Meanwhile Pen was attempting to free herself. She was pitching her voice low to untie the knots that were rubbing her wrists raw. The rat bastards thought her a fey creature, never mind that she'd used a human martial art to kick their asses. The rope was threaded with fine silver wire, and it was the wire that was giving her trouble. The notes to bend silver were in the higher scale, and she didn't want them to notice her trying to escape. She leaned her head against the tent post, it ached from the blow that had knocked her out.

She knew panic would get her nowhere, not when she'd the feeling she was the bait they were going to use to capture more "freaks". She attempted to calm herself, her eyes closed. She barely heard the tent fabric rip. She turned her head to see "whisper" one of the enclave's boggles sliding through the gap along with a dark cloaked figure. She would have gasped, but a well calloused hand pressed to her mouth.

"Shush, little singer." The hand was withdrawn and a kiss placed upon her lips. "...I will have you freed shortly."

"Nu..."

He put his hand over her mouth again.

"Hush, the others are providing a distraction. I will give you my cloak, run for the woods." He said softly. "Don't argue with me, just go...I'll be right behind you..."

"The rope has silver wire..."

He nodded and continued to cut away the rope from her wrists. She rubbed her wrists before he threw his cloak around her, it enveloped her .

"Go, I will meet you back at the enclave...Whisper and Rumor will guide you back..."

She exited with the boggle, pulling the cloak up so she could run.

Pen was half way to the enclave when she heard shots, loud in the still of the summer night. She almost turned back, but the boggles pulled her along. Both were chattering about safety and the urgent need to gather more help. She knew it was the only thing she could do without giving away that she was no helpless girl. She reached the enclave and told the others.

Men and dogs flooded the wood, one could almost believe that the wild hunt had descended upon the wood. There would be no place to hide for the hunters who now were the hunted. When they returned, three of the archers were dead and all three hunters were captured. They would be kept until the elders decided what to do with them. The general feeling was their end should not be a pleasant one.

Pen sought out Nuada almost immediately after the men returned. He was limping and a large slice from a hunting knife ran along his ribs. He made it to her before collapsing, taking her to the ground with him. His head lay upon her shoulder, his breathing heavy.

"You fool," She whispered. "You promised to be right behind me..."

He murmured something she couldn't make out, but his hand rose to touch her face.

"shush, rest now...the battle is over..."

He made a soft noise before he went limp in her arms.

_Lamas..._

The fields got their sacrifice that year, as each of the hunters were made to kneel and the priestess' boline slid across their throats. Pen watched from a distance, though she knew in days of old such sacrifice was common it still chilled her to witness it. Nuada's hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"...Watching the rite disturbs you." He said softly, kissing the top of her head.

"It normally would not." She said. "It is the first time I've seen the actual rite..."

He nodded, had he not seen many such rites he would have though them disturbing as well.

"Some good will come of the deaths they wrought." He said.

She turned in his arms, she raised her head to see there were still lines of pain etched in his face.

"You should have remained at the healing house..."

"I wished to be with you." He said. "I should not have yelled at you, you did warm me the wheel was unstable."

She sighed. "and you didn't have to chase that fish into it, there were plenty of others."

He let out an amused sound, then pulled her close.

"...perhaps once the rites are finished, we could steal way."

She looked down, he was wearing his kilt, she reached and slid her hand upward to tease.

"Are you up to such strenuous activity."

He let out a soft breath, and gave her a bone melting smile.

"For you I would gladly die..."

She leaned in and placed a light kiss where his tunic was open. He made a contented male sound and stood there with her in the late summer sunshine.

_Two days later..._

Nuada lay on his back looking up at the timbers above him, something about the last two days made him uneasy. He knew it was only two months at most before he would have to leave. She had yet to conceive of his seed. It tore at his heart, he wanted a child...an heir to bring to his father with the promise his line would continue. He looked down slightly, the little singer was tucked into his side. He looked at her hand laying upon his chest. He had no ring to give her, no promise that when he became king their vows would be honored. He covered her hand with his own.

"Please gods, hear my plea...a child...some part of me that has no part in my war or my hate..." He whispered. "Let this peace be a contented memory...so that when I have left..."

He could not even finish that thought, he did not want to leave her or the peace he knew would shatter once he departed. He closed his eyes tight, and let the tears flow down his cheeks, tears for what he had lost and what he would lose.


	8. Mabon

Yay...another chapter...*giggle*

Several quiet discussions, Pen senses Nuala, and a gift.

* * *

_A week after Lamas..._

Nuada stood at the edge of the mill pond watching Pen swim. They had stolen away shortly after breakfast. The day was too warm and beautiful to waste with trivial matters. She came in and perched herself on the bank, then looked up at him.

"...The trees will be changing soon." She said softly.

He had tried not to think of it, his departure.

"I know, and I regret that I must leave at the end of their turning."

She grabbed a piece of toweling and began drying off. He pulled her against him, holding her to his heart.

"You won't stay no matter how much I encourage it." She said softly against his skin.

"No I won't." he said. "But I will carry you with me, in my heart and senses."

She looked up at him, "There is another, one you won't let go of..."

He had made no mention of his sister, but for one such as she it could be no secret.

"I have held on so long, I do not think I know how..."

"Your death lies in their hands..." She whispered. "Do not seek what was sundered..."

He ran his hand over her hair, her words burrowed deep.

"I cannot stop my quest, not even for the rare ones who remember and live by the old way."

"Then remember us." She said softly. "Remember what peace feels like, so when your quest ends..."

"Shush." He said. "I know my quest if folly, but I must do it for my people..."

She put her arms around him and hoped he would remember her words.

Wink came every morning to watch Pen go through her routines. She was becoming wicked fast with the practice swords. He knew it would not be fast enough to counter Nuada. Now and again he saw her teacher, showing her something new. They seemed to ignore his presence, though both acknowledged him when they finished. He hoped she would never have to use her skills for anything other than fighting off over amorous nobles and thieve.

He watched one day as she was being trained to fight against a spear, her moves were quick and fluid. Her speed improved, her blows rang off the haft of the spear. Then, shortly before the beginning of the ninth moon, she broke it with a single blow and aimed for the wielder's heart.

_Ninth moon..._

It was early into the ninth moon when Nuada pulled out maps and began planning their next journey. The ogre wished to go back to New York, to be closer to court. The prince was not ready to settle in one place, true he sought the crown piece but for a few more weeks it could rest. It wasn't going anywhere, its guardian had locked it in a vault somewhere in the British Isles. The fool probably didn't even know what he possessed.

"We will travel here..." Nuada said, indicating a mountainous area on the map. "They Sidhe that live there will welcome us for a short time..and we could make it by Yule."

Wink looked at the map, the next enclave was three weeks journey on foot from where they were.

"...Do not worry old friend, we will be back in the tunnels and the market soon enough." He said. "It may be years yet before the crown piece comes in easy reach..."

Finding the crown piece wasn't what worried Wink, it was what they were going to leave behind that did.

Preparations for the second portion of the harvest were already underway and soon the maiden would have to relinquish that title to await the next maiden. Giving up the title of maiden did not worry Pen, what would come after did. She would have to return to the guild after the year was up, and it meant contracts and singing for nobles who eyed her like a rare object. That was unless she conceived, then she would be allowed to stay until shortly after the child's birth.

She knew something was off, she should have conceived long before and well on her way to bearing a child. She went to the priestess. The older woman took one look at her and gave her a recipe for a different tea than the one she had been drinking in the morning. She was assured that she would be with child by the time the leaves stopped turning. She knew her window between now and then was slim.

Nuada must also have known how little time there was because he didn't let Pen more than two steps from him every night after. Every moment that was not in preparation was spent coupling in some secret place around the enclave or in their bed. Even Pen's training came to a halt to be with her lover, to conceive a child before the inevitable parting.

Wink would watch from a distance, knowing what he would tell the prince when they were well on their way to the next enclave. The ogre knew his prince would not welcome the news, nor the fact that he had eagerly bedded her. If given the chance, he'd kept the secret to the end of his days. He knew the prince well, or as well as one other than Nuala could. He'd traveled with the prince for centuries, from even before the army. His vows to Balor had led him to agree to keep the king informed of the son he loved desperately. He wished they could leave, but he knew there was little that would tear the prince away from the young singer for some time.

_Two weeks to Mabon..._

Pen looked down at Nuada, his face slightly flushed from their lovemaking. She moved slowly, pulling soft sounds from him. His hands rested on her hips, stroking up her back and down her thighs. She paused, placing her hand over his heart. She could feel the bond between he and the other, it disturbed her at some level that he wasn't completely hers. The other wasn't intrusive, and seemed delighted not to have Nuada's attention focused upon them. She took it as a sign of approval, that the other would withdraw while she and Nuada made love. She'd felt this presence more as the year wained, but until that night couldn't identify a gender.

"...Who is she?" She whispered. "This other I feel in your heart..."

He made a noise. "...my twin sister."

She touched along the scar on his face, absorbing this.

"She loves you deeply, but does not share the same love you bear her."

He was silent, he knew this. She knew he couldn't let go of that love any more he could release his quest. She traced the scar again.

"Do not speak of that love, it has no place between us." He said. "For this moment, I am yours, I belong to you..."

She wished he could mean that beyond the bounds of the enclave, but he could not. She settled to lay upon his chest.

"When will you depart?"

"Samhain..." He said softly. "After the bone fires are lit, Wink and I will depart."

"We have a short time then..." She said.

He of all knew how true that was.

_A week before Mabon..._

Nuada found Pen standing at the edge of the mill pond looking out over the water. She had not been to the river since the incident before Lamas. He put his arms around her, holding her against him. He had returned to wearing his silk pants, the chill had made the kilt impractical even for him. He held her, again there was disappointment. She'd almost stopped drinking the tea, but would wait until Nuada departed.

"...What will you do when I depart?" He asked.

"If the gods are kind, I will be here until the birth of our child." She paused softly. "...If not I will return to the guild and be assigned to a market with others of my guild."

He remembered seeing the small bands of singers in the troll market, they never went anywhere alone.

"Perhaps I shall see you in one of them." He said. "My father lives not far from the one in New York..."

She turned to look at him.

"So your father lives close to Balor's court..."

"Yes, quite close." He said.

He had never hid his personal seal, but few would notice the tree so entwined in the knot work.

"Perhaps I will preform for the High Court one day..."

He smiled one of his bone melting smiles, if he had his way it would be he she'd be singing for.

"I will attend court upon that day..." He said.

"I did not know you were so highly placed...."

"My father's lands are in Ireland, on the coast..."

She laughed softly. "So you are a lord of Bethmora..."

Among other things. He thought.

"Yes, my lands were my mother's dower gift..." He said.

"Then I shall endeavor to bear a son..." She teased.

He would love nothing more, a son with her eyes and perhaps her temper.

"And he shall be a prince among the Sidhe..." He said.

They both laughed, not knowing fate was listening.

_Mabon.._.

Food and drink made the tables in the meeting hall groan with the weight. Here before all was the best of the harvest from their fields. Everything from fish gathered from the river to the first pressing of cider from the windfall apples. Pen and Nuada had a place of honor to watch the hall. They took amusement to see Wink dancing with a golden haired child.

"...It appears Wink made a friend." Pen laughed softly.

"He is really gentle, despite his apprentice..." Nuada said. "He has been my friend since I was a small boy."

She smiled, "The feast is going well."

He laughed softly, "Indeed. Did you wish to retire early?"

"No, for once Let us enjoy the whole evening in other's company." She said, rising. "Come lets join the dance..."

He got to his feet and led her into the dance.

The festivities continued well into the night, with contests and challenges. Nuada somehow managed to get slightly drunk on the cider, Pen as well. He swept her off her feet quite literally and carried her toward the room and bed they had shared for nearly a year. He carried her across the threshold, bride style, and set her on the bed as he proceeded to undress.

Their lovemaking that night was tender, much like the first days they had been together. She knew time was nearly up, in little more than a month he would be gone and she would be again at the mercy of fate. They lay quiet in the afterglow, both exhausted and content. She ran her hands through his hair, the strands pure silver in the moonlight. She had a gift for him, she'd give it in the morning.

_The day after..._

Nuada made a soft sound as he felt his hair gently tugged. He opened one eye to Pen's thighs in his vision. It mean she was bent over him, doing something to his hair. He saw the plait she'd put in his hair, secured with a bone ring that was near invisible against the strands. She was reaching over to do the other side. He sighed, he thought his sister was the only one who played with his hair.

"I'm almost done." She said. "Ancient warriors often had plaits, if your going back to your war..."

He made a soft sound, a maiden's gift to her champion.

"...Must you do them while I sleep." he asked, half muffled by the pillow he rested on.

"I wished them to be a surprise, but you ruined it by waking up."

He opened his other eye and moved one of his hands to move up her thigh.

"Perhaps I should thank you for them." He said.

She could almost hear the devilish tone in his voice.

"I would welcome it if you did." She said finishing with the second plait.

Before she knew it, he had her pined to the bed and was thanking her properly.

* * *

A/N: On the plaits (braids) in Nuada's hair...yes he has them in the film, I didn't know this until I saw something on Diviant Art...and artist proved it with some screen caps. I can't think of the artist off hand, but the title of the drawing is "what?" and features a young Nuala braiding Nuada's hair. I'm just giving another origin for them...*snickers*


	9. Old yearnew year

Pants* the last chapter...bitter-sweet...Epilogue to follow

A/N: Samhain is the end of the old celtic year and the beginning of the new...

* * *

_The tenth moon..._

The harvest of turnips and pumpkins was close at hand and everyone was helping prepare the ancestor altar in the main hall. In three weeks time the ancestors and the past year's dead be remembered. Pen began practicing to sing for the dead, the wordless tune that parted the veil for a few short hours. For Nuada it meant turning his thoughts to departure and leaving her.

He found her singing at the edge of the wood, near the fields. Her voice drifted over the near barren field with a haunting echo. He waited until she finished to approach her, afraid she was some wraith rather than flesh and blood. She looked even more so in the gray cloak she wore to cut the chill of the deepening Autumn.

"..the Beansidhe..." He said as the last note faded.

She turned to him, smiling. The song was haunting to say the least, most of all to her.

"Yes, she the spirit who mourns the death." She said. "And for some its harbinger..."

He pulled her against him, not wanting to move. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in the scent of Autumn and spice.

"Would that I could stand and watch the first snow with you..."

She put a finger to his lips. "Do not make wishes you know will never be granted..."

He stroked her hair.

"...What are wishes for if not to be granted..." He said softly. "I just lament the fact I will not be able to."

"Let us go back, there is a sadness about this place and I do not wish to linger." She said, looking out into one of the fields.

He made a noise of agreement and quietly escorted her back to the enclave.

_Two weeks before Samhain..._

Nuada looked over the list of supplies they would be purchasing for the journey to the next enclave. He had put this task off until now because of his own reluctance. He did not wish to leave, not with the uncertainty of wither or not he would leave something behind. He took a look at his belongings, everything from his repaired armor to the kilt Pen had made for him. Those two particular items gathered his notice because of what they represented. Two paths, one lead to his death; the other to a life of peace with a woman who loved him without reservation. He carefully folded the kilt and put it at the bottom of his pack, it would probably be months before he saw it again.

The choice pained him, but his people would need him even more with humans pushing them into edges where they were fading. He could not let his people fade, the world would be poorer for the loss. Even with the few humans who remembered, who honored the treaties. He touched the plait behind his right ear, gift from maiden to warrior. He would miss her the most, she had claimed a piece of his heart. She snatched it away from Nuala, or perhaps his sister had given it to her. He stood there with his head in his hands, refusing to shed the tears that pricked at his eyes.

Wink spent his time watching the prince, how bitter-sweet the tenderness that was shared. He met with Balor's messenger outside the main hall. The man probably would be returning to court when they departed the enclave.

"...It is almost time."

Wink made a noise of agreement.

"The child should be conceived on Samhain eve, before you depart."

Wink made another noise, he knew they had been preventing a child for months.

"King Balor will be requesting the Singer to come to court for the Yule feast..."

The ogre turned to look at the messenger.

"I know, a rare request. The guild must still be asked..."

He made another noise, wishing more could speak troll or ogre. He would have given the messenger a few choice words on the way they were meddling with the prince.

"...Would he have found a brief moment of peace otherwise." The messenger said, seeming to read his mind. "No matter how driven, how committed...he needed to know what it felt like."

Wink looked at the mechanical hand, how long it had been since he'd known peace.

"...He needs a legacy, you know as well as I where his war will lead..."

Wink nodded, though he didn't like the way the king was going about continuing his line.

_The week before Samhain..._

The night held a chill, a signal that summer was truly nearing an end. Fall was descending in earnest. The first hard frost was a blessing as the first pumpkins were harvested, and prepared for carving. Both Pen and Nuada took to walking the edges of the fields, watching; waiting. They both were restless, knowing the end was short days away. They clung with a will to what was left between them, even the warmth of the other's body.

Their lovemaking began to be a desperate, near savage thing. Both bore marks from their nights spent tumbling each other in their bed. The ragged scratches of nails, bites that bruised and near broke skin adorned back and neck. Nuada bore the brunt of those marks, willingly. He would stroke over where he'd bitten her as they lay in the languid aftermath.

"...Short days..." She said softly, tracing a pattern upon his chest.

He did not answer her, he was breathing softly. This night her nails had scored long, deep tracks along his spine. He knew he'd stick to the sheet if he didn't move.

"...We shall make the most of it then." He said softly, turning onto his side. "The last rites for you as maiden..."

She kissed over his heart.

"To light the bale fires, and relight the main hearth fire." She said against his skin. "for you as well..."

He nodded, unseen in the dark.

"Where will you be going?"

"To the mountains..." He said softly. "The next enclave..."

"You'll have a stowaway or two if you don't tell Rumor, Whisper and Rhyme they can come with you..."

He laughed, he liked the three little boggles who had taken it into their heads they belonged to him.

"I'll make sure they know their company is welcome." He said softly. "Would you come with me if I said your company would be welcome as well."

"No." She said just as softly. "I can not go to war with you, but I will not stop you from waging it."

He knew she would not, "Why wouldn't you stop me?"

She reached up to trace the scar across his face.

"The treaties served for their time, man has changed...even those who have followed the old ways." She said "They must be reminded they are not alone on this land..." She kissed his dark lips. "Even the Sidhe must be reminded, we were all one people once..."

He pulled her against him, letting her listen to his heart.

"I will remember that, when my quest takes me into darkness..." He whispered.

She knew he wouldn't, once upon the path he would not stop, could not. She nuzzled in, clinging to him.

_Samhain..._

Pen stood next to the bale fire as the last woods were placed upon it. Fires from all over the enclave came upon torches carried by family heads. Each announced themselves, throwing their torches into the smaller fire. She stood waiting, for each and every one. Soon the whole of the enclave had gathered. With great care, She lifted the large torch from the small fire. The sun was setting as she came to stand before the fire and the corn man made of the last sheafs of wheat and corn.

"We here gathered, we the people of earth, the mother's children..." She began. "Gather here to call our dead, our loved ones, Kith and kin to come feast with us..."

She sang, her voice carrying the haunting notes as the sun dipped down, twilight descending.

"...In a time that has no time, a place that has no boundary..."

Nuada, dressed in his black silks stood on the other side of the fire, a torch in his hands as well.

"We summon the dead..." both she and Nuada said together and lit the fire.

The fire blazed up, throwing shadows around the fire.

It was a short time later, that Pen and Nuada were able to steal away. He did not take her to the fields at first. He wanted to give her a gift before he left, an assurance he would honor his vows to her if she came to him. He had worked on it in secret, not even telling Wink of its existence. He held it out to her, it was a miniature replica of his lance, the haft was silver, the blade was shaped blue stone. He placed the delicate pendant around her neck.

"As you have gifted me, I return gift for gift." He said. "Remember me fondly." He kissed her forehead. "Let us end as we began, in the fields..."

She smiled at him, the pendant was a costly gift. More than payment for the bone rings that secured the plaits hidden in his hair.

"Where we began..." She said softly.

He led her toward the field, knowing as soon as the night grew its darkest he and Wink would be gone.

Their lovemaking was slow, almost like the twining of the roots of a tree. All clothing save their cloaks lay discarded at the field's edge. He lay his own body to the hard earth, he would put no more bruises upon her. She teased, kissed and aroused with all the skills he'd taught her. His soft sighs encouraged, his hand upon her head guided. Then her body was over his, sinking down upon his thick member, his hands going to secure her upon him. Movement seemed to come in snatches, enough to keep them both on the edge but no more. Neither knew how long their slow movements continued, the night chilled to near frost before his body could no longer hold back. He bit off his bellow of releace as she muffled her cry with her teeth in his flesh.

They were slow to dress despite the cold, wanting to cling to the body heat they had created. Once dressed, they made their slow way back to the enclave proper. They spoke no words, neither could find words to fill the silence. All that was left was to cling until the final Farewells...

The fire was still blazing, many were warming themselves, all about turnips and pumpkins grinned as crude heads upon the thresholds of each house. Wink met them with a lantern in his hand of flesh. The ogre made gestures that the feast awaited them. Pen was quietly seated and a plate set before her, while Nuada dished various foods upon it. He served himself and joined her in one last meal.

The feast ended deep in the night, scattering all to their own houses and fires. The Sidhe chosen to ride the last hunt went to saddle their horses and tend to the hounds. Soon they would ride, signaling the true end of summer. Pen watched them before going to the guest house to say her good-byes to Nuada. Her hand touched the pendant, it was warm from where his skin had touched hers.

He looked up as he packed the last of his belongings, dressed in his armor and cloak for warmth. The three boggarts were tucking odds and ends into pockets and tucking themselves into the pouch at his side. He finished securing the pack closed before going to her. She reached up and ran her fingers over the plait behind his right ear, and over his face as she stood on tip toe. He touched the pendant, resting his hand upon her heart.

"...If you ever come to the Troll market in New York..." He said

She smiled, sadly. "I know I will try to find you...but it will not be you."

"Riddles again," He said. "Come, escort me to the edge of the wood and the road onward."

She led him out and toward the edge, Wink falling in with them.

Nuada gave Pen one last kiss, this one on the top of her head. She offered him one last smile, and a touch, over his heart. He looked back only once to see her standing as the others turned away. Some part of him would remember, her standing there in her Gray cloak her hand touching the pendant he had so lovingly made. As his steps took him farther away, haunting notes reached him; a song of parting from ancient Lothlorin. He breathed a sigh and continued, the song haunting his steps until it faded in the dark behind him.


	10. Ep: in the days after

*Sighs* the epilogue I promised....

A/N:Here are the dates for the sabbats for which the chapter titles are named

Samhain runs from October 31-November 1 and celebrates the Celtic new year

Yule is December 21-22, is the longest night and sometimes called mid-winter

Imblc is February 1-2 and celebrates the goddess Breed, who is the patron of poetry, healing and smith craft...

Ostara is march 21-22 and is the first day of spring

Beltain is April 30-may 1 and celebrates the fullness of life

Litha is June 21-22 celebrates midsummer which is the fullness of the God's power

Lamas is July 31-august 1 celebrates The first grain harvest

Mabon is September 21-22 and is the first day of fall...

* * *

_Two weeks after Samhain...._

Pen woke with a start, her stomach rebelling. She just made it to the toilet as her stomach forcefully ejected last night's dinner. This was the third morning she'd woken up spilling her dinner into a basin. She took no thought to its cause save a small bug from making love in the fields on such a cold night.

She had taken to returning to her training, her timing seemed off and she was missing simple moves. When she cut short a training session to retch, her teacher suggested she go to the healers. She was reluctant, but her teacher assured her it would not effect her training....

_A week's travel into the mountains..._

Wink had been putting off telling Nuada about the girl he'd bedded, even more so for what he might have left behind. The Ogre knew how his prince would react to the news, violently. He knew his prince would welcome news of a child, even Half-Sidhe if the child was male, but the truth of the child's mother would be another matter.

"...What is troubling you old friend..." The prince said, feeding dried leaves and twigs into a small smokeless fire. "Missing your little friend already?"

The ogre looked at his prince, it was now or when the messenger found them with the possible news of a child...

_A short time later..._

Nuada punched his fists bloody against the ancient oak. The girl was a human...he'd bedded one of those hollow, destructive creatures and wished a child with them. Disgust and rage coursed through him as he blindly hit the bark. More so that he'd done it willingly, as if she were another fey woman he'd taken into his bed. The image of her came again and again, fueling his rage. He did not take his anger out on Wink, the ogre would have beaten him unconscious and carried him like a sack of grain over his shoulder into the next enclave.

Instead, Wink let him punch trees until he either broke his hands or his rage gave out. He saw her again, her hand laying over the pendant he'd given her, there was something about her expression...sorrow. He felt the first crack of bone, then the wet snap of it breaking against the wood. He continued, breaking ever finger.

Wink found him, still beating his hands against the oak. The skin on his hands was near shredded and his fingers were broken in several places. One thing he had not expected, tears marked the prince's face. He pulled the prince away, catching the broken fist that swung at him.

"Enough..." The ogre finally said in troll. "Enough..."

Nuada collapsed to his knees, his body and rage exhausted. The ogre carried him back to their camp and began setting bones and wrapping the prince's hands...

_The enclave..._

Pen could not believe it, nor at first did she want to; she was with child. Then the emotions came, Joy, sadness and longing. The elders summoned her shortly after she learned that she was pregnant, they told her to whom she'd been bound. In some ways the news did not surprise her, but in others it troubled her.

"...Prince Nuada, Silverlance...the son of the High King..."

She had hung her head then, an uncertainty that she'd ever see him again save at the safe end of his lance as he thrust it into her heart. She thought back to the words they had spoken of the child they had both wanted, none could say her child would not be of noble blood.

"...He will be summoned to return..."

Those words gave her hope, but a slim one. The man who returned would not be the same one who left.


End file.
